Book Review-(Not That You Asked)

In keeping up my New Year's Resolutions, I am following the example of Beth's blog. She actually has a whole book review section. I don't think I'm going to go that far. But if you like my review enough let me know and i'll do more of these!

So this review is about this HILARIOUS book I was given by Matt, my co-worker, for Christmas. It's by guy named Steve Almond and is called (Not that You Asked): Rants, Exploits, and Obsessions. To answer your question, YES, half of the title is in parenthesis. But ALL of the book is freaking hilarious. Except for the Kurt Vonnegut part. But I'm getting too ahead of myself. Let me back up.

The book is just kind of a nice collection of short experiences, memoirs, essays and theories on life, love, kids and society in general. The book starts out with a series of letters to Oprah in the style of "Letters from a Nut." (If you don't know what I'm talking about, go to Borders or Barnes & Noble one of these days and just pick it up. All you need is about 2 minutes to read one of these letters to understand)

Well, in this book, the first letter is a pre-emptive rejection of Oprah. Yes, he rejects HER and says that he KNOWS she's thinking of choosing him to be her book of the month, but that he wants no part of it because Oprah is, as he puts it, "The Wal-Mart of hope."

The next letter is him realizing the mistake he's made, and he tries to make it up to her. He writes letter after letter becoming more and more desperate to recover from what he perceives as her coldness towards him because of his first letter. He doing everything possible to win her back doing crazy things like accusing Steadman (her boyfriend of too many years to count) of being "Snidely Whiplash-esque" and talking about how she got screwed out of the Oscar for the movie "The Color Purple".

The final letter says it's being accompanied with his 4 month old daughter, who he knows Oprah will raise with the same care she puts into her show. He even says that he's including along some breast milk because his daughter doesn't eat solid foods yet, and to please refrigerate it quickly.

After I read the first few pages of this book, I was SOOO excited to read the rest! This was going to be HILARIOUS!! Slams on Condoleezza Rice, blatant offending and then butt-kissing of Oprah? What could be better? But then the Vonnegut part begins.

I'm sorry, but I don't know who Kurt Vonnegut is. I've heard about his book "Slaughterhouse Five" but I've never read it. And after reading the first half of this little "Crushing on Vonnegut" diatribe, I didn't think I ever wanted to. Steve Almond talks about how he schemes and connives and finally scores a ticket to an author's forum with Vonnegut and other current authors. He talks about how the other authors are only interested in pimping their books, how they are too "naive" and "optimistic" about life, and how Vonnegut is the ONLY one that REALLY gets how life really is.

Honestly, it just seemed that Vonnegut was an old, crotchety, negative atheist. He readily admits that he is an atheist, and that the world is going to disintegrate and turn into dust in 12 years because we don't take care of it, and we don't take care of each other. Ok, maybe not as soon as 12 years, but he says it's DEFINITELY going that way, what with all these people's belief in GOD and what not. I didn't want to read about him and his negative theories on life anymore, and it was like this Vonnegut part was never going to end. So I stopped reading it back in January.

Anyway, It took me so long to finally pick up the book again and trudge through the rest of the Vonnegut pages. But I'm SOOOO glad I did. The rest of the book is back to being laugh out loud funny. He talks a lot about going through puberty and about the school and family humiliation that always seems to follow these horrible times. He talks about how he HATES the Red Sox based on the fact that they cost his beloved Oakland A's the championship back in the early 70's. He continues to hate them even though he's lived in Boston for years and even teaches at Boston College. He actually calls himself the "Red Sox Anti-Christ."

There is a huge part about how he almost became a VH1 reality show whore and an even BIGGER part about how he resigned from Boston College because they invited Condoleezza Rice to speak at the commencement ceremony. He actually was invited to the Hannity & Colmes show and he TOTALLY humiliated them by bringing up the Bill O'Reilly sexual harassment situation. As I've previously brought up, I detest Hannity and O'Reilly. I don't think I would consider myself a Democrat, but I HATE that if you call yourself a "Republican" you are immediately thought to align yourselves with scum like O'Reilly. So I don't know what I am. But I know who I don't like.

Anyway, the last part of this book is about the birth of his daughter and the many ways he could've killed her if someone wasn't there to supervise him. It makes me think that I am NOT READY to be a parent AT ALL. But his honest, true love for his daughter brought tears to my eyes in it's sincerity and truthfulness. I love my little gusano so much, but I know I will love it even more when I see it's little shining face. How can I possibly prepare for that? That's what the last chapter of the book tells me.

Anyway, most of my blog readers will like to know that while this book is wonderfully touching and true, it is NOT rated PG. Well, I would say that MOST of it is PG, but it has some DEFINITE rated "R" moments. Sadly, these moments were usually the ones that made me laugh out loud in quiet public places. I just wanted everyone to know that before they ran out and got the book.

You will LOVE this book, but don't say I didn't warn you. And what ever you do, DON'T be drinking anything when you read the story about when he was caught shoplifting or when he decides to have his girlfriend wax his chest. And especially when you read the last line of the book. Even to the end, hilarious.

Enjoy!

How bad it is

I forgot to post this funny story when I was talking about being sick. Last night I wanted to make sure I slept better than the night before. So I bought some VapoRub to spread all over my body at night. I've never bought VapoRub before, but from what I remember, it's pretty darn strong in the smell department. I mean, that's the point right? It's strong enough so that when you rub it on your neck, it still will reach your nose and your throat.

I stick my nose RIGHT DOWN into the jar and I get NOTHING. I can't smell anything. I rub it all over my neck and I can't smell it. I'm thinking somehow that I got the "non-smelly" kind. So then I proceed to put it all over my chest too. I'm like in a vacuum, and my body is telling me that there is nothing there.

But I walk over to my mom, and I'm like 5 feet away from her, and she's like "oh, you smell." So I guess it IS working! My sense of smell has always been so strong and I just feel hobbled without it. The other thing is that my nose is basically clear. I can breathe through it right now, it's not completely stuffed up. So I expect to be able to smell things because air is still moving through it. But it's not happening so much.

So here's to applying VapoRub nightly! Happy Rubbing!

Sick, Sick, SICKENING, Sick

Sunday night I started to get a sore throat. I was REALLY concerned that it was strep. That's because I spent about 3 hours in Reagan's house on Friday and her whole family had strep. Now, I don't think that Reagan is a dirty person, by any means. But all I had to do was touch ONE thing that hadn't been sanitized, and that would be the end of it.

However after I talked to her and compared symptoms, I decided it wasn't strep. And this was confirmed when the sore throat quickly gave way to congestion, a horrible PAINFUL cough with phlegm coming up, fever, chills, wheezing and my eyes being swollen with pain and pressure. I finally went to the doctor yesterday and they gave me an antibiotic prescription. I need to go pick it up at the pharmacy, but that involves like taking a shower, and maybe putting on clean underwear. And everyone KNOWS how overrated clean underwear is.

Also, because Jean is on a cruise this week, I haven't had the option of staying home those first few days I was getting sick. I've needed to be at work so I can train the new girls. But that will never help me get better, and so I decided to do something drastic today: I told a lie. I told them that my doctor said it was pneumonia and that I needed to do a 48 hour round of antibiotics before I come back to work. How bad is that of me? On a lie scale from 1 to 10, you know with the lowest being like when you tell a friend that her giant swollen ankles DON'T look like sausages about to pop out of their casings. That would be a 1. And a 10 is Jean and everything about her. So where does this little antibiotic lie fall on that scale?

So this is my current regimen: Halls, cough syrup (I checked with my OB to make sure it was ok to take) Vapo-rub, water and more Halls. I try not to do anything that will make me breathe too hard, because if I do that, my throat dries out and then I start coughing, and let me tell you, you do NOT want me to start coughing. I get going to hard that I puke, and then the things that come up are atrocious in color and consistency. Oh, it's not pretty.

I think that the WORST thing (well my worst thing anyway) is that my sense of smell is gone. That means that food is no longer appetizing because I can't taste it. So yesterday after Lisa and I went to the gym, I stopped at the Wal-Mart and got a GIANT King Sized Snickers Ice Cream Bar. (That was because Reagan always talked about how she ate them when she was pregnant, and I've been craving one for a few weeks now.)

I wasn't actually hungry, like I didn't really want to eat it, but my stomach was churning and telling me that I needed to eat something. So I inhaled the snickers, and then 2 packages of fruit snacks. But I really didn't want them. I also got a bunch of other junk food too, but I think it'll just sit in my car until I can smell it again and hence enjoy it. And that food thing is happening again right now. My stomach is telling me that it's empty, but I don't actually FEEL hungry. Maybe some toast. With jam. Raspberry

So why did Lisa and I go to the gym? Especially because I'm sick? Well, we went and just sat in the wet sauna. It was horrible at first because the walk to the gym from the car tore up my throat so badly with the freezing air, but the moment I got into that wet sauna, it was like a different person sitting there. My voice changed, my nose cleared, and it was HEAVENLY. I need to go do that every day. It's the only way to make myself feel better these days.

So, that is my goal for today: recover, go to the wet sauna, and try not to talk or even breathe too much. No one ever got anywhere by breathing.

Residual effects from the Temple

Do you notice how there are never any toilet seat protectors in the bathrooms of the temple? Apparently, not only can the Holy Ghost purify your heart, but it does a pretty good job on toilet seats too. I mean, the H.G. has to be more powerful than lye, what with all the old lady butts sitting on them. Just an observation.

For another great toilet story, click here. (This website is usually pretty PG-13, but this post is VERY much rated G.)

Happy Toliet times!!

What to post, What to post . . .

I'm in a posting rut. I don't know what to post. I think that I've exhausted the subject of my family, my pregnancy, hiding my pregnancy from my family, job, my horrible boss, my horrible co-workers and hiding my pregnancy from my my horrible job, boss and co-workers. And my dog. You have all heard plenty about my dog

Also, I start to feel that I'm whining about things. I do not want to be a whiner. I want to be refreshingly funny, whimsical and poignant. That's hard to do when you have no interesting topics to discuss.

What should I do? Should I tell you about what happened when I went to the bathroom in a hospital last night? Well, there was a drain in the floor in the middle of the room and every time I flushed the toilet (Yes, this was a MULTIPLE flush visit) I could see water swirl around the drain. That made me nervous. Was the water coming directly from my toilet and passing through the drain in the middle of the room before it went down to the place toilet water goes, but we don't talk about? I looked for particles in the swishing water, but I never saw any. It didn't do anything to calm my toilet fears.

Why would water be swishing around that drain for any reason? I mean, shouldn't that drain be an "exit only" situation? Why should I be seeing water coming up at all? Isn't it just there in case the toilet or sink floods? It's very upsetting when you flush the toilet and see water moving around your feet. I don't suggest you try it.

I don't think my blog readers would appreciate toilet talk. So I DEFINITELY won't be blogging about that. So should I blog again about how my feet look like little pork sausages? Should I maybe take a picture of my foot and post it here and show everyone how I no longer have any muscle or tendon definition in my foot? Should I talk about how when I wear my shoes my flesh balloons over the top of my foot before it is pushed into the front?

Should I point out that you should be sure to look at the nice little fat crinkle/crease at my ankle? And i'll for sure remind you to notice how the water retention causes BOTH sides of my ankle to be puffy, creased, and all together revolting.

I don't think that you want to be reminded again about how my ankles jiggle when I walk, how I can't bend my foot certain ways because the flesh backs up over itself and makes a nice little wall of water retention goodness. I think I've exhausted the topic of my fat feet, so I'll just have to find something else to talk about.

What about my job? I mean, I can only guess that of my nearly 30 posts, more than half of them talk about my job, my boss and the crap I have to put up with there. Do you really want to hear about that again? Do you really want to hear about how I get yelled at every day? About how I'm the only person doing everything in my office, and rather than my boss and co-workers being APPRECIATIVE towards me, the only one who knows how to do everything and run all the systems of the office, they instead are short tempered and quick to yell at me for not getting things done fast enough? Do you want to hear about that?

Heather and Alyssa will know that it's difficult to train someone, especially when you are all alone. It's better when an assistant is going to be leaving and we hire a new assistant and the one leaving can focus 100% on just training. When you are trying to train, and the phone keeps ringing, or the agents keep dropping things on your desk, or Jean keeps leaving voice mails telling you that she needs you to pick up her prescriptions at Costco, that's when things get bad. Should I talk about that? You probably don't want to hear about that, right? I didn't think so.

I'm officially stuck. Please let me know what the next topic of my post should be. Otherwise I might be forced to talk about one of the three topics above. And we know how bad THAT would be.

For the Slopes?

We have this great story in my family that involves my mom, a fanny pack and a phrase that is now legendary. One day, as we were cleaning out our attic, we found a box of old ski clothes and accessories. We looked through it and found the gloves that were mis-matched, things with holes and otherwise un-needed apparel. And then we came to the fanny pack.

Now I would like everyone to take a moment and stop and think about the last time you saw a fanny pack on a person. Strike that. When was the last time you saw a fanny pack on a person and it made them look cool? Or at the least it DIDN'T make them look like a total tool? Are you thinking 1982 like I am? Well, now imagine that the fanny pack that my mom has pulled out of this box is turquoise blue/green and has a black snap buckle. Did I mention the multiple zippers. Yeah, it also has multiple zippers.

My sisters, and brothers and I all say unanimously that it can be given away to charity. We actually think that it should just be thrown away immediately because there is no way we would want to inflict that turquoise monstrosity on anyone. However, my mom says, "Really?" and then proceeds to hold it up to her waist and turn her body to the side like she's modeling the latest swimsuit from France. She then says "Really? Get rid of it? But maybe we could use it. You know. . .for the Slopes?"

We of COURSE burst out laughing and immediately start mocking her for this. We continued to mock her all the rest of the day, and every chance we've gotten since. Whenever ANYONE talks about skiing, or snowboarding or ANYTHING, one of my siblings will INEVITABLY say, "For the slopes?" and we will all howl with laughter. My mom included, because she's the first to admit that she's crazy. Plus the fact that she actually does CALL them slopes. So there is plenty of mocking opportunity still to this day. (You want me to do an impression of this, I will be happy to do it. It's one of my fave impressions of my mom to do).

So my mom wanted to go to the slopes today. She invited me, Marcelo, Nate and Denisse to go with her. Marcelo decided that he would stay home and finish painting our bedroom. (I actually think that he was afraid to go because he was afraid of embarrassing himself, but he would never admit that.) And we all know that I am 6 months pregnant, so there would be very little skiing being done on my part.

We pack some food "for the slopes" (see, it's a VERY universal phrase!) because NO ONE wants to spend that kind of money for food. Buying food at the slopes is like buying food at the airport or at a movie theater. You KNOW you need it, but do you really want to spend $7 for a tub of popcorn or Frito pie? (Yes, Frito pie was there, and YES, they were charging $7 for it) So you inevitably sneak in food.

On a side note, there was a TIP jar at the little cafe/lodge there at the slopes. I thought that was the most IDIOTIC thing I had ever seen. I didn't look inside the jar, but I'm sure that there was nothing in it. I mean, who wants to leave $1 or $2 when they've just spent $34 on 2 eight inch pizzas and a water. (That was actually the tab of the woman right in front of me) It scared the crap out of me that I wouldn't have enough money for my little raspberry square and my hot chocolate. Luckily, (and this is a very SAD "luckily") my bill only came to $8. I considered myself blessed.

We gather our goods and talk to Nate and decide to meet at BYU at 10:30 to rent the skis, etc. Well, we get there at 10:30 and Nate is nowhere to be found. He calls at 10:36 and says, "we are running a little late. We'll be leaving in 5 min." We pick out some snowboard boots for Denisse, and then we sit and wait. Well, 20 minutes later, we get ANOTHER phone call and Nate says. "Ok, we are leaving Can you tell us how to get there?"

Now would be a great time to go into detail about how Nate and Denisse are late to everything!! My mom (of course) blames Denisse. But you have to understand that my mom is totally biased when it comes to her sons. She defends them to the death, and there is nothing they can do wrong. I think that Denisse wouldn't take that long if Nate didn't let her. But you can't say that to my mom. Her sons can do no wrong.

Like the time I complained about Nate putting down tile in our downstairs bathroom. Well, lets just say the job was LESS EFFECTIVE and we were left with a GIANT mess, a cracked toilet (we had to buy a new one) shoddy work, and a bathroom that we had to put back together. When my mom heard this, she was like "well, he DID help you!" Um, yeah, but if we had hired a professional, they would've put the toilet and sink back together. Or at the least, they would've NOT CRACKED IT. But I can't say anything about my mom's "boys." (Sadly, I think it's this mode of thinking and treating them this way that has let Jacob become the little a-hole that he is right now)

Anyway, back to the topic: My brother and sister in law are FREAKISHLY late to everything. Like when we had Sunday dinner 2 weeks ago, and they were 3 and a half hours late. We were waiting and waiting for them, and then when I could take it no longer, I told everyone that we were just going to eat without them. (Sadly, you should know that the point of me not being able to "take it" any longer came when they were only 1o min late. But it's a good thing we didn't wait for them, right? The point of the story is that we should always listen to my belly) But they never said why they were late. They just were.

So they FINALLY arrive at BYU at like 11:35. And then it is discovered that Denisse is going to ski, not snowboard. So the board that I've picked out for her and had fitted to her boots will have to go back. And she needs to try on some new boots. Oh, and she doesn't have any ski pants. So we try to rent those too. BYU does rent pants, but they only have 2 sizes currently available: Men's 4xl and youth size 14. SHE FITS INTO THE YOUTH SIZE!!!! I knew she would. My brother and my mother are very confused about her size. Nathan said she's a size 8. I know she's a 4-6. I've seen her little butt and her skinny Latino hips. But whatever, the point is that she fit into these ridiculously tiny pants.

Oh, my brother has all the snowboarding equipment he would need, but he decides that he's going to ski so that he can be next to his wife as she's learning. I try on my mother's boots and find that I can fit into them just fine. So if I decide that I want to go down the bunny slope a few times, I can.

Before everyone starts FREAKING OUT about me going skiing when I'm 6 months pregnant, please know that I've been skiing since I was 8 years old, and i was going to go down the BUNNY slope for crying out loud. I was actually thinking of switching jackets with my mom and doing a green trail (aka, the easiest) but then my mom reminded me how I had to rest while trying on clothes at Target on Saturday night (I was getting a bathing suit. Why did I think it was a good idea to get one of these in the dead of winter while I am huge and pregnant and HUGE? I tried one on, and with all the pulling to get it up, I had to sit down and rest between suit rounds. I finally found one that hides my belly well enough, but it shows every dimple in my thighs. BLECH. That's all I have to say about bathing suits: BLECH!) Yeah, but back to point, I don't think I would've made it down the mountain.

Anyway, Nathan ALSO has to get fitted for boots, skis and poles. We FINALLY get out of there at like 12:10 and head up to THE SLOPES. The day is nice and pretty. We walk down and I set myself up in the lodge/cafe with a big cup of hot chocolate, an awesome book and 2 very decadent pastry squares. I enjoy my book and my fattening substances for a few hours.

My mom comes back and tells me that Denisse is having a HORRIBLE time with the skiing. That she keeps falling down, that she's covered in snow, and she just can't get it. My mom decides to wait for them a little while. But then Nathan finally comes over to the lodge and tells us that Denisse had to be brought down by ski patrol because she snapped something in her knee. The day is over for her.

Because we have our own car, My mom decides to finish skiing the rest of the day (only 2 more hours or so) and then we head home. I never did get the chance to go down that bunny slope. Oh well, there will be other chances later. Bad day for Nate and Denisse: good day for me, hot chocolate and a book.

I know I may come down on my mom a lot in this blog. So I want to say something now so that you all don't think that my mom is a horrible person. I know I rag on her a lot, and she has her own problems and issues (One is that her boys never have to clean, so she never expects her daughter's husbands to clean. If I whine about Marcelo not helping me with the laundry, it falls on deaf ears. She had NO help with any housework from anyone but her girls. But that is her own fault. Another one is that she's trying to ingrain in her daughters' minds the need to always make your man happy, have dinner ready, etc. However, a very STRONG point can be made that she did that for nearly 40 years and it didn't make ANYONE happy. Not her, not my father. Why, therefore, is she trying to push the same agenda on her girls? Just a thought.)

I don't want to get going, because this was the part of the email where I was going to PRAISE my mother. (Real good start on that one, right?) Anyway, I am thankful for the things she does. Like she put a pregnancy panel in my work pants. They were being held up with a safety pin and 2 rubber bands. But the P.P. lets me have all the room I need and I don't have to keep hitching up my pants every time I stand up from my desk. Also, it keeps me from having to buy new pants. I am the CHEAPEST girl you will ever see, especially when it comes to clothes. So I hate the fact that I might have to buy another pair of pants that I will only wear for 3 months. I would rather just wear these pants out until they get a hole in the crotch and they have to be thrown away in a biohazard bag. But the panel saved me from needing to do this, so for that I'm thankful to her.

(Some may say that a mother who criticizes her daughter for having 2 eggs and 2 pieces of toast for breakfast, but then approves of her going skiing 6 months pregnant is not a very good judge of what's right. I may agree with you.)

Well, at least my mom is good for a laugh. Right? For the slopes?

Happy Balentimes Day!

I hope all of you had a good Balentimes Day. Mine was ok. At about 3:30 I received a call from my mom and she told me that my brother had call her. He said, "Sooooo, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?" My mom told him that she, Marcelo and I were going to have a lasagna dinner together. And then he said, "Oh. Can we come over?"

So that's how he ended up over at my house last night eating my food and letting his dog run around my living room. The dinner was freaking awesome (because I made it, of course) but the desert was less effective. My mom was going to get Lofthouse cookies, but when she got to the store, they were all gone. At that point, I think that she should've bought some thing chocolate and/or ice cream like. She did not. She bought some un-frosted sugar cookies, a tub of low-sugar icing and 1 small bag of M&M's. Bastard.

Dessert was not great. I'm going to have to go make myself a sundae to help wash the memory of that horrible dessert from my mind.

Speaking of desserts, Lynn and I were talking about food today. (Reagan, you have a rival for food talk. You know I can't go more than 4 hours without talking about food) The conversation started my telling her that my hands smelled like bologna. The pre-molded kind where you have to remove the red tape around the outer rim before you eat it and you have to pick out suspicious little black things out of the nut meat.

She said that that kind is her FAVORITE and that growing up she was never allowed to have it. So she said that when she came to college she had at least 2 of those sandwiches a day. Did I mention that when she had those sandwiches they were fried. I think that is the best thing I've ever heard.

I said that my childhood decadence was Little Debbie snack cakes. And I never got to have them, so as soon as I came to school, I ate FAAAAAAR to many of them. I told her that 25 of the 40 pounds I put on my freshman year were due to these little fantastic pieces of sugared heaven. She said that she LOOOVES zebra cakes. She said that if she had a choice between zebra cakes and sleeping with Enrique Iglesias, she would most like choose the zebra cakes.

I had to agree with her. Who knows what kind of lover Enrique is. Yes, he's fantastically Latin and smarmy, but how quick is he? I mean, I'm going to be cheating on my husband and forfeiting 2 zebra cakes in the process. This is a big risk. I mean, with 2 zebra cakes, I know how long they will last, and how high my level of enjoyment will be with them. With Enrique, however, there is no such guarantee! That is a risk I don't think I'm willing to take!!

The morale of the story breaks down thusly; My knowledge of Zebra cakes:secure. My knowledge and trust in the lovin' skills of Enrique Iglesias:not so secure. It's really not a hard decision when you put colons in your sentence.

Guess what? I tricked Jean into giving me Monday off. How did I do that, might you wonder? Well, Martin Luther King Day was the first Monday that Lynn was gone. Everyone else was gone out of the office too. All the banks were closed, the title company was closed and so were all the mortgage companies. But I still had to come in and do nothing all day. And the Friday before, Jean said, "Oh, Monday is a holiday? But you don't get it off right?" I said, "Uhhhhh. . . " and she said, "I think you don't get this Monday off, but you get President's Day off, right?"

I knew for a FACT that we got neither of them off. So I quickly said, "Yeah, that sounds right." She said, "Go check the book" and I said "Oh I've seen it. That's right." And then guess what I did? I changed the book. (Heather, why didn't we think about this before? You KNOW that she has no idea what's going on unless she sees it in the book) I changed the book to give the assistants more days off. I forgot that the book actually says that you only get those days AFTER you have worked for a year. What a joke!

So, the next assistants can thank me. Even though Jean will probably try to change it later when she finds out what I did, but whatever, I'll be gone by then.

And finally, I was going to put this bacon flow chart on my blog, but I couldn't get it big enough to be clear. I really like bacon, and I think all of your do too, so you will totally be able to relate with me on this bacon-y turn of events. I'm just going to have to put the link. Please enjoy.

http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y255/PinkRevival/lmao/?action=view&current=baconflowchart_700.jpg